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Grand Tour destinations: * Vienna * Prague * Cologne * Aachen * Riems * Paris * Brest * Nantes * Bordeaux * Toledo * Aragon * Barcelona * Palermo * Istanbul * Athens “I promise, dear, it will take but a moment longer for me to-“ “SIMEON PERRATA IF YOU DO NOT GET ME OUT I WILL TEAR OFF YOUR-“ “Yes, dear, you said that before. Lots of tearing, lots of kicking. I assure you, I am doing my ABSOLUTE best to-“ “GET ME OUT OF THIS CAGE, GODDAMN IT!” “Now, now, my love, there is no need to take the Lord’s name in vain. Let me try a different pair of Arts-“ “I’LL SHOW YOU A PAIR OF ARTS, YOU SON OF A-“ *click* “There, that did it. I’m not sure what exactly ‘that’ was, but it worked! Now, let us-“ *SMACK* “If you EVER, for even ONE INSTANT, leave me locked in a cage, EVER AGAIN, I will instruct Pencini Voop to melt off your eyebrows. Permanently.” “Yes, dear, of course. No more cages. Now, may I suggest that we-“ “Get the everliving fuck out of this dungeon, yes.” *THUD THUD THUD* “Oh guaaaard! I’m escaaaaaaping!” *SLAM* “Wotcha, who’s escaping? Is it-“ “You will drop your weapon, turn around, and go home, leaving the door open behind you.” “Uh, yes mistress.” “But first, my husband is going to- yes, dear, thank you. Do you remember who we are?” “Uhhhhh…. no, mistress.” “Good. Run along, now.” “Yes, mistress.” … “Do you suppose we should have told him to put on his breeches, first?” “No, dear. No, we shouldn’t have.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Now, Lord Cvatal, about our treaty…” “ARGH! I swear, it wasn’t me! Someone else ordered-“ “Don’t lie, Lord Cvatal. It is unbecoming of one of your position.” “Please, you have to believe me, it was Lord Hruska! He-“ “Killed our guard, stole our horse, and threw us into a torture dungeon?” “Yes, yes, it was all Hruska-“ “Whose men just happened to be wearing your coat of arms-“ “Faked! Faked, I say!” “-and wielding your signature blue steel swords-“ “Stolen from my armory, surely!” “-while chanting, ‘Cvatal is our House, Cvatal is our Lord, in Cvatal’s name we purge your shame with Cvatal’s finest swords.’” “…A common nursery rhyme? ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!” “They say the truth hurts, Lord Cvatal. What they forget to mention is that lying hurts much, much more.” “NYYYYAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH! You… you monsters!” “Really, Lord Cvatal? Monsters? You clearly haven’t met Paolo.” “Who? I’ve never hearrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!” “No, you haven’t. But I have. I know what a monster is, Lord Cvatal. A monster wouldn’t be having this conversation with you. A monster wouldn’t offer you the chance to make things right by doubling your promised shipments of blue steel blades. Instead of fostering your third-born son and training him as the seneschal of a County, a monster would take all three of your sons and turn them into shambling husks fit only for dock labor. A monster would set your horse cards on fire after the very first time you asked him to play with you.” “Horse cards? What in God’s naaaaAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!” “A monster would leave you here to rot. I, however, am no monster.” *click* *fwump* “Oh God, thank you, thank you-“ “Yes, yes, get up. You’re getting blood on my cane. Now, about those swords…” “Yes, Count Perrata. The first shipment will go out today, I swear.” “Good. Take a drink of wine, clear your throat. Yes, that’s it. Oh, I suppose I should mention-“ “Www- whassssh thish? Isss thish- oooooh…. faeries….sparkly….” “-I’m no monster, but I learned a few tips from one. Enjoy your hallucinations, Lord Cvatal. They’re better than you deserve.” “Aren’t you forgetting something, dear?” “Oh! Yes, my love, thank you.” *snip* “I’m sure Silvanus will be pleased to add this to his spy network.” “Scry network, dear.” “That’s what I said. Now, how about lunch? I’m rather peckish, aren’t you?”